Element
by ibshafer
Summary: Sometimes being out of your element can be a good thing...
1. Chapter 1

**Story: **Element – 1/2  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Kurt?Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:**  
**Warnings:**  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Element

_- ibshafer_

If he hadn't been craving an iced mochachino, he might never have known.

On the hunt for new fall fashion – just because he spent his days in Dalton blue, didn't mean he couldn't fit couture into his life (though his dad and step-mom did look at him funny for wearing a suit to dinner) – he was spending the day in Columbus, thankfully free of his usual "entourage" of well-meaning, concerned faces.

After a year of close scrutiny he'd just needed to step outside of his life for a little while –

to get _out_ of his usual element, to find a better, more _cosmopolitan_ element for a while; the big city, or as big as Ohio could get. It wasn't New York or Beverly Hills, but it would do…

He'd petitioned to make the yearly pilgrimage to Columbus on his own and somehow, Burt had agreed. He'd waved off his step-brother's half-hearted offer, amused by Finn's relief at his answer, and, alone, had hit the road early, hoping to avoid the hordes of back-to-school shoppers, whining kids who'd rather be swimming or playing, accompanied by frazzled, sun-burned moms.

10 am and the morning's hastily eaten croissant and juice was long gone. He'd spotted a Starbucks on the food court and scooted into line ahead of a mob of giggly pre-teen girls, a pair of whom seemed fascinated by him. He could hear their whispered comments about his clothes, his hair, his presumed sexuality (_"So cute! I bet he's got a cute boyfriend, too!"_), but was having too much fun enjoying his apparent rock-star status, another perk of being in the big city, to give them the evil eye.

That's when he saw him.

Across the food court, half-concealed by potted ferns and a couple eating bad-Italian.

Dave Karofsky.

He had to look _twice _– he almost didn't recognize him.

The arched eyebrow, the subtly cleft chin, the peaked hairline, those were the same, but the face was narrower – not lost, _swallowed_ by itself – and even at this distance he could see that the boy's chest seemed more defined, as though all those sports were finally paying off, or he'd _matured_.

What was most striking to Kurt though was Karofsky's _expression_ – relaxed, _happy_ even – brightened by summer sun and freed of the perpetual dark cloud he had normally skulked under.

He spared himself a moment of bitterness, that his former bully should have even one moment free of torment when he was still exiled, albeit in a zero-tolerance-for-bullying-mostly-gay-high-school, but then he couldn't help but be curious _how_ this transformation had come to pass.

Was this just what Karofsky looked like, removed from testosterone-scented locker rooms and McKinley's tolerance-_free_ zone?

Was this just Karofsky – _out of his element?_

He was telling himself that he didn't actually care – that really, _whatever_, right? – when the people sitting at the table in his line of sight finished their pizza and got up to leave and his view of Karofsky – and Karofsky's _table-mate_ – was suddenly cleared.

_Huh?_

There he _was_ – the world's biggest muscle-bound coward, Baby-Huey, too scared to come out the closet – _laughing and touching some boy's hand._

Kurt couldn't see the boy's face, but his shoulders were too narrow to be from Karofsky's usual summer haunt, football camp. Narrow _pale_ shoulders.

_Run! Before he sees—_

The barista at the counter was asking Kurt what he wanted and he'd mumbled out an order before he realized what he was doing.

Suddenly feeling like he stuck out like a sore thumb, like the stage had gone dark but for the single spotlight on _him_, Kurt turned away and in on himself, trying to hide in plain sight, hoping the big, dumb jock wouldn't see him.

The last thing he needed was to have to deal with Karofsky right now, but the barista was apparently _new_ and seemed to be having trouble with his order and as much as he wanted to just disappear, he was stuck waiting, a 5 clutched uselessly in his hand; a hand that was beginning to shake…

_How was this possible?_

He'd fled McKinley for the safety of Dalton, left a world in which he was out and proud but _alone,_ for one where he was out and proud and _just-another-gay-boy_, left his _home,_ and the people he loved, to that screwed-in-the-head, closeted asshole, left the idiot to stew and struggle and be tormented – because that's what that jerkwad deserved.

So how did it happen that Kurt, after a year of living non-dangerously, should still be alone, because Blaine, _god-damn him_, was involved and committed to someone _else_, and Karofsky, who had looked like he'd rather _die_ than _open_ that closet door, let _alone_ set one foot outside of it, was sitting in a food court, at a mall outside of Columbus Ohio, holding hands with some boy?

_Some pale-skinned, narrowed-shouldered, dark-haired boy…_

WTF, world, _right?_

He'd lost the drive to shop anyway. He needed to get the hell out of there, grab his bags, take his finally paid for mochachino, and head for the parking lot.

He might have made it, too, if that stupid newbie barista hadn't forgotten to give him a straw, which Kurt then promptly dropped, and if Kurt hadn't bent over, _gracefully_, of course, and set off a scream and a giggle from his fangirls on the line.

Flustered, he straightened up and without even looking made a dash for the elevator.

The _glass_ elevator.

Trapped in the contraption, he had to watch as Karofsky, sans the Pale Wonder, ran to the staircase that curled around the elevator and took the steps, two at a time.

Kurt considered not getting off and taking the car back up to the food court, but again, felt thwarted – _exposed_ – by all that glass. Seeing the _determination_ on Karofsky's sun-kissed and flushed face, he suspected the boy could have kept up the game of staircase/elevator tag all day…

The last one off the car, he made a vain attempt to slip off to the side, but Karofsky jumped in front of him.

"_Hummel,"_ he said breathlessly, and Kurt wasn't prepared for the brightness there, the _lightness,_ as though he'd expected the bloated and bitter bully persona to slip back into place once his old target had been sighted. "How funny to run into you here."

Tbc…

3


	2. Chapter 2

**Story: **Element – 2/?  
**Fandom: **Glee  
**Author:** ibshafer  
**Rating:** PG  
**Characters:** Kurt, Karofsky

**Disclaimer:** I don't own these people, they own themselves and are just nice enough to let me spin them around the page now and then.  
**Summary:** Sometimes being out of your element can be a _good _thing...  
**Warnings:** up to NBK; this story was started during the Xmas hiatus which means it's largely AU now… It predates Actual Klaine, it predates TSSBS, and it predates the hoped for Redemption of Dave Karofsky in the final episodes of the season (2)…  
**A/N:** The author does not in any way condone bullying or any form of aggression towards homosexuals, or anyone else, for that matter.

Element – Part 2

_- ibshafer_

[_from part 1…_]

_So how did it happen that Kurt, after a year of living non-dangerously, should still be alone, because Blaine, __**god-damn him**__, was involved and committed to someone __**else**__, and Karofsky, who had looked like he'd rather __**die**__ than __**open**__ that closet door, let __**alone**__ set one foot outside of it, was sitting in a food court, at a mall outside of Columbus, Ohio, holding hands with some boy? _

_**Some pale-skinned, narrowed-shouldered, dark-haired boy…**_

_WTF, world, __**right?**_

_He'd lost the drive to shop anyway. He needed to get the hell out of there, grab his bags, take his finally paid for mochachino, and head for the parking lot. _

_He might have made it, too, if that stupid newbie barista hadn't forgotten to give him a straw, which Kurt then promptly dropped, and if Kurt hadn't bent over, __**gracefully**__, of course, and set off a scream and a giggle from his fangirls on the line. _

_Flustered, he straightened up and without even looking made a dash for the elevator._

_The __**glass**__ elevator._

_Trapped in the contraption, he had to watch as Karofsky, sans the Pale Wonder, ran to the staircase that curled around the elevator and took the steps, two at a time. _

_Kurt considered not getting off and taking the car back up to the food court, but again, felt thwarted – __**exposed**__ – by all that glass. Seeing the __**determination**__ on Karofsky's sun-kissed and flushed face, he suspected the boy could have kept up the game of staircase/elevator tag all day…_

_The last one out of the elevator, he made a vain attempt to slip off to the side, but Karofsky jumped in front of him._

"_**Hummel,"**__ he said breathlessly, and Kurt wasn't prepared for the brightness there, the __**lightness,**__ as though he'd expected the bloated and bitter bully persona to slip back into place once his old target had been sighted. __**"How funny to run into you here."**_

**PART 2:**

_Funny?_

_Is this something we're __**laughing**__ about now?_

Despite the busy, public location and the almost jovial tone to Karofsky's voice – and that silly, hopeful expression on his stupid, tanned face – Kurt felt the familiar feelings slip into place; fear, anger, his own brand of bloated bitterness. Had they switched emotional roles?

"What do you _want_, Karofsky?" he rasped, hand on the railing, an eye out for sympathetic passers-by. Maybe his fangirls would back him up? They were leaning over from above, grinning and giggling, excited at the idea of having caught him _in the act_ _of being gay_… Hoping to disabuse them of the notion, he plastered on his best sneer. "Want me out of your _mall_ now, Karofsky? Have you claimed Columbus as your territory, too? Sorry, but I haven't seen the latest list of _Places Kurt Can't Show is Gay Ass_."

Karofsky seemed somewhat taken aback by the venom in Kurt's words. He just stood there, blinking guiltily, his ruddy cheeks flushing beneath the sunburn, and for a second, Kurt almost felt remorse. Almost. He was expecting the Fury to show itself any moment; Karofsky was just trying to wrap his tiny brain around all those words Kurt had thrown at him. As soon as he did, he'd start sputtering and growling and waving his fists around, Kurt was sure.

Instead, the big behemoth actually looked away, eyes scanning the balcony above until they lit on the pale boy he'd been sitting with, hovering a few feet away from Kurt's fangirls. There was a look exchanged, from the behemoth, a grimace and a nod, from the boy, a faint smile, and then the boy turned and left. He was rather beautiful, actually. And _young._

_Karofsky, what are you __**doing**__?_

"Sorry, Hummel, I…" he whispered, swinging back around to look at him. "I know I deserved that."

Now it was Kurt's turn for surprise. Was Karofsky actually _apologizing_? And what was he apologizing _for_? For chasing him out of the food court in the Columbus Galleria or for making his life a miserable, living hell the past couple years? Whatever it was, both or either, Kurt wasn't ready to accept something offered merely in response to Kurt's witty and biting riposte.

"Yes, yes, you _did_," he said, levelly, trying to avoid eye contact. Karofsky didn't deserve eye contact. "And _more_. You know, I could have pressed charges. Even if I couldn't have proved it, it would have gone onto your school records and affected you when the time came to apply to colleges." He saw Karofsky's eyes goggle, as though he hadn't thought of that. Kurt _wanted_ him to know how much power he, the little gay boy, had actually _had_ over him. Even with_out _Outing him to the Principal, his father, and the entire school. And he wanted him to know that he wasn't the vengeful type, even when he had every right to be, mostly become it made it clear what a superior human being Kurt Hummel was. "I took _pity_ on you, Karofsky, because I knew you were going through something really hard." In the sunlight filtering in through the glass ceiling, he thought he saw Karofsky's eyes shimmer, wet with sudden moisture, and he felt an unwarranted pang himself, fleetingly reminded that whatever _else_, Karofsky was still just a kid, like him. That he was still just a _gay_ kid, like him.

Karofsky, for his part, suddenly seemed every bit the pathetic teenage loser he was. Uncomfortable, he cleared his throat, glancing up at Kurt quickly, then back down at his own worn leather sandals. "I appreciate that, Kurt," he said softly, his voice cracking on Kurt's name, inspiring a second spike of regret in Kurt's belly. "I really do."

Just then the elevator _dinged!_ its arrival and a crowd of shoppers poured out, just in time to break the moment and Kurt was grateful for it. He'd been starting to loose his edge, that anger/hatred edge, and it had been the only thing keeping him standing and talking to this utter _mistake_ of a person, the only thing keeping him from running for the exit. (He was small and wiry and had the reach and speed of a dancer, but Karofsky was a seasoned athlete, powerfully built, and had clearly been working to loose some of that blubber he'd been carrying around.)

_Clearly_.

Lost in the total distraction of the exiting crush of shoppers, with their bags and baby carriages and half-consumed flavored coffees, Kurt found his mind wandering, felt himself idly _wondering_ if he'd ever _really_ looked at his bully before, if he'd just been too busy flailing and falling to the floor, too busy _screaming_ at the asshole to notice that he was…that he was actually_ not _awful looking. Some aberrant portion of his brain offered up the word _'handsome' _and Kurt smacked it back down to the basement, where he kept things like images from Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the _entire _wardrobe from the TV show _Dallas_…

"Can we talk upstairs," Karofsky asked abruptly, taking a step closer as the crush of exiting shoppers cleared. "I actually left my salad in the food court and I'd like to get back to it before they chuck it." He took a quick glance upstairs again, either looking for his little friend or maybe, to see if he could actually _see_ his salad from where they were standing…

_Salad?_

Kurt knew he had plenty still to say to Karofsky, _volumes_, but he doubted there was anything the behemoth could say to _him_ that he actually cared to hear.

"What do we have to talk about, Karofsky? You got what you _wanted_, didn't you? You got to spend the rest of the year," be paused to rattle his cache of shopping bags in Karofsky's direction, "without having to see me and my _"faggy" _outfits. And all those _Slushies_ must have been a big drain on your allowance."

At this, Karofsky's eyebrows pinched in the middle and a vaguely pained expression came over his face. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head, peering at Kurt through squinted, somewhat guilty eyes. "_That's_ not what I wanted at _all_, Hummel," he said softly, as though that should have been obvious.

_What?_

Kurt was stunned. "Not what you wanted," he yelled, tone and pitch rising. "_'Not what you __**wanted!**__'_?" Fuming, he started waving his arms, bags shifting noisily, mocha threatening to squirt out the top of its cup. "You made it _very_ clear what you wanted! That you didn't want me there, that my mere _presence_ offended _oh, so delicate_ _you_, that I—"

_Oh!_

They were starting to draw a good bit of attention from the mall crowd and panicked, Karofsky had clamped a hand over Kurt's mouth, an act so radical and so unexpected, that Kurt just _froze_.

_What. Is. He. __**Doing**__! _

_And with all these witnesses!_

Just as suddenly, Karofsky removed his hand, seemingly shocked at his own behavior. His expression bore equal parts fear, regret, and dismay, as though he wished he hadn't done what he had. Disappointment was plainly etched on his face, though Kurt couldn't tell if he were disappointed in himself or Kurt.

Heaving a weighty, pained sigh, Karofsky turned abruptly and lumbered back up the stairs and it was Kurt's turn to stand there blinking dumbly.

_Huh?_

With the show apparently over, the crowd went back to their lattes and Auntie Anne's pretzels, and the typical mall murmur resumed. Only Kurt's fangirls still seemed interested and after that last display, they were gamely trying to pretend they weren't.

For a moment, Kurt was too confused by what had just happened to move.

What a weird time to turn coward. Hadn't Karofsky been the one to start this whole thing here today? What had he _thought_ Kurt was going to say? _'Thank you for torturing me. Please, sir, can I have some more?' _He had to have _known_ Kurt was still going to be angry, still have major issues with him. He had to have been _prepared_ for that, so why did he…

_He just walked __**away**__?_

Other than the time that they'd been arguing and Karofsky had kissed him to shut him up, he'd never seen Karofsky walk away from a fight before.

And now he'd _touched_ him, albeit to stop him from making a scene, but still, he'd put his hand on Kurt's _mouth_. And then, when he couldhave put up _fight_, he _didn't?_ What was _up_ with him?

With a shock, Kurt realized that Karofsky hadn't _fought_ back or argued or even _complained _since this whole encounter had begun.

Just like last time, Karofsky's own actions seemed to have surprised him so much, that he'd just retreated.

Kurt had a lot of things running through his head right now, not the least of which was a rather high pitched voice telling him to consider himself lucky and high-tail it back to the car. He weighed the options; take his own sage advice and leave _now _or stay and find out what the fuck that had all been about. Though he really, really wanted to get the hell out of there, wanted to never have to look at that stupid, relaxed, sun-burned face again, in the end, curiosity, and some unfinished yelling, won out.

Off the elevator and back in the food court, Kurt located Karofsky's big head on the other side of a potted palm and telling that high pitched voice to be quiet so he could think, he made his way over.

_You can still leave, you know? You don't owe this jerk anything._

Except something, some heretofore _unheard_ portion of his brain, said that he _did_, maybe just a _little_…

_Gay solidarity?_

Piling his bags into the booth adjacent to Karofsky, he sat down across from him with a very vocal _huff_ and took a long draw on his mocha chino, content to let the caffeine and sugar slide pleasantly down his throat while Karofsky picked at his surprisingly healthy looking salad and looked anywhere but at Kurt.

Kurt was the first was to admit he was a drama queen, in fact, it was his stock and trade, but he also knew there was a time and a place for it and maybe, just maybe, the food court at the Columbus Galleria wasn't it. Feeling a guilty for unintentionally providing the mall's lunch time crowd with an impromptu one-act play, (and maybe a little bit for screaming at someone who wasn't fighting back…). Kurt made a conscious effort to dial back his demeanor. It wouldn't be easy, Karofsky just naturally made him want to go _Grrrr…., _but that new voice from the depths of his brain reminded him that Karofsky was actually being pretty reasonable, that he hadn't raised his voice or gotten physical, other than to shut Kurt up, and that maybe, removed from his natural environment, he could actually carry on a rational conversation.

And a summer in the sun certainly hadn't hurt him either.

"So," Kurt started off, in what he hoped was a genial voice. "You came_ Out_, I see." He was half-expecting the Karofsky bomb to go off, but Karofsky barely flinched at the words. In fact, he almost seemed grateful for the question.

"Yeah," he said, a half smile on his lips. "Shawn and I came out at the same time."

_The boy! I forgot about the boy._

So young and so slender; _clearly_ Karofsky had a _'type.'_

Kurt shivered at the thought, conflicted. On the one hand, he was relieved that Karofsky had come to terms with who he was – and that he was moving on from tormenting Kurt –

but on the other hand, _"Shawn"_ was just a _boy…_

"Don't you think he's a little _young_ for you," he asked, as delicately as he could, aware that despite the calm, this was still Karofsky he was talking to; who knew _where_ the landmines were?

Karofsky put his spork down on his tray, looking at Kurt in confusion.

"_Young_," Karofsky repeated softly, as though trying to figure out what Kurt had been getting at, as if it hadn't been completely obvious. After a breath, his expression shifted, eyebrows lifting in alarm. "Oh, _no_ – we're not…_he's_ not… He's my _cousin_, Kurt. Shawn is my _13-year old_ cousin."

And then, at a point when Kurt would have expected the bomb to _finally _go off – Karofsky did something _more_ surprising than even that locker room kiss.

_Karofsky started laughing._

Kurt sat there fuming while Karofsky caught his breath, which didn't take long once he looked up and saw the look of utter _un_amusement on Kurt's face.

Cheeks flushed and eyes shining, Karofsky grinned at Kurt apologetically.

"_Sorry, sorry,_" he said, waving a hand across the table. "He's just going to get a kick out of this – he _thought _you might mistake him for my date." Cheeks suddenly flushing brighter, Karofsky looked away. "Apparently, I have a _'type'…_"

Tbc…

7


End file.
